by Dick Camp
Shadow Warriors
The Untold Stories of American
Special Operations During WWII
Dick Camp
Contents
Preface
PART I: EUROPEAN THEATER
Chapter 1: Spy Master
Chapter 2: Carrying the Torch
Chapter 3: Marine with the Chetniks
Chapter 4: Union II
PART II: PACIFIC THEATER
Chapter 5: Tulagi
Chapter 6: Gavutu-Tanambogo
Chapter 7: Gung Ho!
Chapter 8: Edson’s Ridge
Chapter 9: Choiseul Coastwatchers
Chapter 10: Spy Catcher
Bibliography
Index
Photo Insert
Preface
During my formative years in the Marine Corps, I volunteered and I was accepted as a platoon commander in a reconnaissance company. It was an exciting peacetime assignment because of the many and varied training opportunities, one of which was to make clandestine raids from submarines using seven-man rubber boats—heady stuff for a brand new first lieutenant with less than two years’ service.
On one exercise, I led my twenty-man platoon to Pearl Harbor where we loaded our three two-hundred-pound rubber boats aboard the USS Tunny SS-282, a World War II attack submarine. After securing the boats and seeing that my men were “bedded down,” I ventured to the bridge to discuss the day’s activities with the boat’s skipper, a young lieutenant commander. I reported in the approved Marine Corps manner—formal salute, body rigidly at attention—“Sir, First Lieutenant Camp reporting for training.”
The commander gave me a wave that I took to be a return salute, stuck out his hand and said pleasantly, “Hi, Lieutenant, I’m Jack, what would you like to do today?” To say that I was caught off guard would be an understatement. I was tongue-tied. He was in essence giving me carte blanche to use his multimillion dollar submarine for whatever I wanted to do—wow! I found out later “Jack’s” informal manner was his way of having a little harmless fun with the Marines.
The boat got under way to the assigned training area off Fort Hasse beach on the windward side of Oahu. Later that day, after carrying out several practice launches, I was informed that the regimental commander, Col. Ed Dupras, was on the way to observe our training. Shortly afterward, he arrived in a launch, pulled alongside, and climbed aboard. Needless to say I was unnerved by his sudden appearance but the colonel went out of his way to make me feel relaxed. Now comfortable, I proceeded to explain, in great boring detail how to conduct a raid from a submarine. After fifteen minutes of mind-numbing “how-to” minutia about rubber boats, launch procedures, and insertion tactics, I finally wound down. I expected questions galore, because, after all he was just a senior officer who commanded a desk. Instead, he just nodded and casually mentioned that “things hadn’t changed much since my days as a Raider!” Damn, I felt two inches high! He had “been there, done that” in actual combat, and here I was prattling on about “how to do” when he had “done it.” I found out later that Colonel Dupras had been a platoon commander in the 1st Raider Battalion in World War II, under the famous Col. “Red Mike” Edson. The World War II raiders and their brethren in the ParaMarines, and Office of Strategic Services were held in the highest regard by my generation of reconnaissance men. We considered them real life “tough guys,” the bravest of the brave, who blazed the trail for our current day Special Operations Forces.
Shadow Warriors is a tribute to the accomplishments of those early unconventional warriors.
PART I
European
Theater
CHAPTER 1
Spy Master
Colonel William A. “Bill” Eddy, the recently assigned naval attaché in Tangier, was ordered to London to brief Maj. Gen. George S. Patton Jr. and other high ranking generals on the situation in North Africa. The officers were gathered in a hotel room, when Eddy, wearing his Marine Corps uniform with its two rows of World War I ribbons, limped through the doorway. Among the ribbons on Eddy’s blouse were the Navy Cross and the U.S. Army’s Distinguished Service Cross (both the second-highest decorations for bravery in action within their respective services), the Silver Star with Gold Star indicating a second award, and the Purple Heart for being wounded in action—the cause for his limp—with Gold Star.
Taking care of introductions, Col. Edward Buxton asked Patton, “Do you know Bill Eddy?”
Patton looked at all the ribbons on Eddy’s chest. “Never saw him before in my life, but the son of a bitch’s been shot at enough, hasn’t he?”
William Alfred Eddy was born in 1896 in Sidon, Syria (present day Lebanon). His parents were American Presbyterian missionaries, who insisted their son immerse himself in the local culture, a decision that would have important consequences in his later life. Young Eddy took advantage of the local traditions and customs and was soon comfortable in the bazaars and souks, sampling the local cuisine of sheep’s eyes and couscous. He spoke colloquial Arabic like a native, enabling him to make friends with the tribal chieftains and move among them like few Westerners of the time could do. A 6 November 2008, article in The Economist titled “An Earlier Envoy” noted that, “If anyone could have been America’s Lawrence of Arabia it was Colonel William Eddy.” Anthony Cave Brown in Wild Bill Donovan: The Last Hero wrote of Eddy, “As a personality, Eddy was difficult, a man of pronounced likes and dislikes, trusts and distrusts … extremely clannish … who had powerful vocal cords and was a large, tall football player type, rarely minced words.”
After completing middle school Eddy was sent to the United States in 1908 to complete his schooling. He attended the College of Wooster, a Presbyterian school in Ohio, until his sophomore year when he transferred to Princeton. Upon graduation, Eddy surprised his family by applying to become a Marine officer. On 6 June 1917, he was notified that “he had successfully passed the examination for appointment as a temporary second lieutenant” and was ordered to report to the new Marine Corps base at Quantico, Virginia. Three months later, he sailed for France with the 6th Marine Regiment as intelligence officer.
Devil Dog
Second Lieutenant Bill Eddy and the two enlisted Marines of his reconnaissance patrol lay concealed in the uncut field, heavy with the smell of clover, just a few feet from a gravel road. The crunch of hobnail boots, guttural commands, and the muffled sound of engineer tools drowned out the night sounds. Eddy carefully recorded the activity and then the three silently withdrew into the darkness. They slipped back through the German lines and reported their observations to the regimental commander, Col. Albertus W. Catlin. “The Germans are organizing in the woods and consolidating their machine-gun positions,” Eddy said, before describing his observations in more detail. The report impressed Catlin. “Eddy did some remarkable work with the patrols,” he noted. “He was a daredevil, who loved nothing better than to stalk German sentries in Indian fashion and steal close to their lines. The Marine service has always attracted men of this type.”
Eddy’s actions that night earned him both the Navy Cross and Army Distinguished Service Cross. The citation read in part: “Near Torcy, France, on the night of June 4, 1918, at a great personal risk, he led a reconnoitering patrol of two men into the enemy’s lines and established the location of those lines. At one time he and his patrol were between two bodies of the enemy, remaining there for more than an hour. The information which he brought back proved of great value in determining the disposition of the enemy, and he was in imminent risk of capture during the greater part of his journey.”
The Marine Brigade, consisting of the 5th and 6th regiments and 6th Machine Gun Battalion, moved into attack positions, and at 1700 on 6 June 1918 assaulted the heavily defended “Bois de B
elleau,” wrestling it from the German defenders in a horrific month-long battle and earning the nickname “Devil Dogs” from their enemies. Thereafter, the wood was known as the “Bois de la Brigade de Marine.” During the action, Eddy and Sgt. Gerald C. Thomas (later General) made a personal reconnaissance in front of the lines to judge the effects of Allied artillery. Thomas recalled: “We worked forward slowly through the dense wood. Eddy climbed a tree to get a better look. He had no more gotten up there when he came down with a thump. ‘My God,’ he whispered, ‘I was looking square at a German in a machine-gun nest!’” After several more close personal observations, they returned to friendly lines. Both Marines were awarded the Silver Star for their actions, the first of two for Eddy.
Catlin noted, “Eddy’s conduct was distinguished to a degree by unerring judgment, immediate action, and a remarkable sangfroid.” His luck finally ran out on 25 June, when he was wounded in the leg by a high-explosive shell. After recuperating, he rejoined the brigade as its intelligence officer and aide-de-camp to Brig. Gen. Wendell C. “Buck” Neville. Three months later Eddy was evacuated to the U.S. Naval Hospital, Brooklyn after contracting a near-fatal case of pneumonia. In his weakened condition, he contracted a severe infection in his right hip, which resulted in complete loss of motion in the joint that caused him to walk with a limp for the rest of his life. The Marine Retiring Board found that he was “unfit for active service” and placed him on the retired list with the grade of captain. In a letter to his mother, Eddy expressed concern for the future. “It is a real question what [I] will do after I leave the hospital. As you know, I will be a cripple all my life. There will be something I can do, I know.”
“A profession with which I am definitely out of love”
Eddy decided to pursue his education by entering the Princeton graduate program, earning an MA in 1921 and a PhD in philosophy the following year. In 1923, he took a position with the American University in Cairo, a private institution that offered him an opportunity to return to the Arab world. His old commander General Neville gave Eddy a ringing endorsement. “I know of no man whose personal qualifications so appeal to me as did those of Captain Eddy in the short time we were together. Captain Eddy’s personal character is all that could be desired. His capacity for leadership, his influence upon others, and his ability for efficient administration are beyond praise. To me he showed intelligence, energy, judgment, and knowledge far beyond that warranted by his age and length of service.” Neville’s commendation highlighted the character and ability of the man and, seen in hindsight, offered a remarkable insight into Eddy’s future influence in the Middle East.
In 1928, he returned to the United States as a professor of English at Dartmouth, and in 1936 he became the first non-clerical president of both Hobart College and its sister institution, William Smith College, on Seneca Lake in upper New York State. Major General John H. Russell sent a letter of congratulations. “As Commandant of the Marine Corps, and speaking for your friends, it gives me distinct pleasure to offer you congratulations and best wishes for every success in your new assignment.” One of his first official acts as president of the colleges was to ask that Hobart be included in providing candidates for the Corps’ Platoon Leaders Class. In 1936 Eddy was promoted to major on the retired list. At a chance meeting with the commandant, Lt. Gen. Thomas Holcomb, Eddy volunteered for active duty “if his services could be profitably utilized.” He wrote a friend, “I shall welcome active service with the Marines if that comes next summer, and, if not, I shall ask for it a year later if the world emergency continues to be acute.” He applied for a leave of absence from Hobart but told the friend that he was unwilling to return to the school because it was “a profession with which I am definitely out of love.” In view of Eddy’s impressive background in the Middle East, Holcomb discussed his request to return to active duty with the director of Naval Intelligence. A short time later, he sent a personal note to Eddy. “I am writing to find out how quickly you can report for duty, should your services be required, which I am inclined to think will be the case.” In mid-May, Eddy received the orders: at the end of the college year, he would report for active duty.
Naval Attaché, Cairo
“All U.S. Naval Attaches were involved in counterintelligence in various forms.”
—Marine Corps Counter Intelligence Association
On 23 June 1941, Eddy was formally designated as Naval Attaché and Naval Attaché for Air in Cairo. The Unites States would not officially enter the war until the attack on Pearl Harbor later that year, but U.S. support for its allies was steadily building behind the scenes. The embassy’s Chief of Mission was informed that, “Major Eddy, you will find, is more than a Naval Attaché. The Navy Department envisages using [him] not only in Egypt but in nearby Arabic speaking countries such as Saudi Arabia, Palestine, Syria, and Iraq. From our own point of view we not only see no objection to such an arrangement, but heartily approve of it. Major Eddy has many close friends among high-placed Arab officials and Arab families throughout these territories, and I believe he can make contact with these groups that would be impossible for almost any other American. We should like to have him have as much opportunity as possible to travel around freely, make contacts and observations and submit reports.” A month later Eddy, now a lieutenant colonel, reached Cairo and immediately got to work. In a letter to his wife, he wrote about his duties. “The nature of the information on naval matters which I seek (and sometimes find) concerns the enemy more than the allies and covers: naval operations, trade, merchant marine, suspects and agents, technical devices and inventions … bases, mine fields, mutinies or disaffection among personnel in ports, contraband being shipped to enemy by or thru neutrals, arrivals and departures of all vessels, volume of supply going to for example Dardanelles or North Africa, sailing routes.”
There was another part of his job that he was particularly suited to because of his many Arab connections. “[A]s you know, I am charged with political errands too, counter-espionage, study of Axis propaganda, personnel, organization, sabotage, blacklists … I have developed sources of information in several cities.” He went on to caution his wife about the danger inherent in the assignment. “Nothing on this sheet should ever appear in print unless you are in a hurry to become a widow.” The chief of mission disapproved of his counter-espionage function, saying “it would end diplomatic immunity, but I had other instructions from my primary boss, the director of Naval Intelligence, and I went on my own way.” Many of Eddy’s intelligence and political reports were read at the highest levels of government, including the newly assigned coordinator of information, William J. “Wild Bill” Donovan, World War I hero and prominent New York City lawyer.
COORDINATOR OF INFORMATION
The Office of the Coordinator of Information (COI) was founded 11 July 1941 by President Franklin D. Roosevelt at the prompting of William J. Donovan. The COI was the U.S. government’s first centralized propaganda and espionage agency. In 1940 and 1941, Roosevelt had sent Donovan to Britain to assess the country’s ability to fight Germany, and Donovan’s experience with British military intelligence convinced him the United States needed a similar organization.
Donovan’s proposal created a bureaucratic firestorm, particularly with the FBI’s J. Edgar Hoover and the U.S. Army’s Gen. George C. Marshall. Both looked upon the COI as a naked ploy to usurp their power. Despite their heated opposition, Roosevelt approved its formation. Initially the agency had the “authority to collect and analyze all information and date, which may bear upon the national security … correlate such information and data … [and make it] available to the President and to such departments and officials of the Government as the President may determine.” However, Donovan soon expanded the agency into a worldwide fiefdom that not only collected intelligence but organized a force of agents who conducted espionage activities behind enemy lines.
Spies and Lies in Tangier
“[Tangier] might have inspired a chapter fr
om a … spy novel, with its walled Arab quarter and narrow streets where veiled women, camels, smugglers, and spies plied their trade. … It was Bill Eddy’s kind of place …”
—Hal Vaughan
In late fall 1941, the president approved a plan Donovan had proposed to conduct undercover intelligence activities in North Africa. A principal feature of the plan was the designation of a coordinator of information (COI) representative to coordinate and direct the clandestine operations. Donovan selected Eddy based on his knowledge of the area, his language capability, and his high level contacts among the Arabs. The appointment as naval attaché in Tangier became official in December 1941. In a letter to his wife, Eddy wrote, “I returned from my two weeks observation cruise with the Navy to find a bombshell in the form of telegraphic orders awaiting me: ‘Immediate return to Washington for instructions regarding other foreign duty.’ …” In early December, he met with Donovan at the new COI headquarters in the Apex Building in downtown Washington and was given his marching orders. “That the aid of native chiefs be obtained, the loyalty of the inhabitants be cultivated; fifth columnists organized and placed, demolition materials cached; and guerrilla bands and daring men organized and installed … [and] to maintain a line of demarcation in so far as practicable, between operations and intelligence.”
Eddy arrived in Tangier in late January 1942 with a two-fold mandate: “Prepare a network of agents and seven clandestine radio stations to (a) leave behind in case the Axis occupies North Africa (b) to prepare intelligence and sabotage in case the Allies should land an expeditionary force.” Eddy was well aware that Tangier’s reputation as a spying and smuggling center made it a unique destination for many European and American diplomats and spies. Eddy wrote that the city “was full of persons who had been, or ought to be, in jail. As Lisbon was for Europe, Tangier was for Africa—the escape hatch from prison, banking laws, justice, persecution, morality (there was no neighborhood without sin fit to cast the first stone).” The city, located on the North African coast at the western entrance to the Strait of Gibraltar, broiled with intrigue, swarming with Allied and Axis agents, spy vs. spy, who rubbed shoulders in its watering holes and bistros.
